


Counting Out

by Valledorthedragon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24985336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valledorthedragon/pseuds/Valledorthedragon
Summary: Noct wants out of training for the latest Justice Monsters release, and has the perfect secret weapon.Gladio thinks he has an easy race win to get Noct to shut up complaining for a whole week.One of them sees the end result coming- one of them is surprised.Or the one where Gladio gets ego checked by one Prompto Argentum.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	Counting Out

“Ugghhh.” Noct wished he could’ve draw out his groan longer, but it turns out oxygen is more important than complaining- go figure. 

He lay splatted on the training room floor, wishing it would just absorb him on the spot. He wanted an audience with Titan, so he could throw the Archaean’s big, meaty middle finger at whoever decided running was a good idea. He didn’t want to run. He wanted to sit in the self made wallowing hole of his own sweat and misery, and have someone carry him back to his chambers where he would never get disturbed again. 

No such luck. The Astrals decides a better response to his pain was a boot to the shoulder; so a big Titan middle finger to the Astrals too. He grunted and tried to roll his mushy, potato limbs to approximate a sideways position.   
“Alright- get up, princess- break times over.” The boot said. He shot it the darkest glare he could muster- and it probably would’ve worked if he didn’t look like a drowned kitten right now. Not even Titan had a big enough middle finger for how much he wanted to flip off his shield right now. He was suffering. 

He spotted Prompto off to one side- breathing moderately deep as he reached for a bottle of water. Perhaps he should be flipping him off too for that little, jealous part of him that envied his ability to just jog through this stuff like it was only a minor inconvenience. Probably not, since he didn’t he didn’t actually have to be here- he agreed to come, despite really not having any reason to, and that earned him a lot of the prince’s good graces. At least he’d agreed to suffering along with him. Was he suffering? He couldn’t quite be sure. He sure as hell better not be enjoying it, or else what kind of masochist best friend had he let into his life? Gladio was bad enough! 

He didn’t know where he found the strength not to just flip his shield the finger right there and then (Ignis would’ve been proud of him), but he refused to stand up. Nope. His legs were cement. It wasn’t happening. 

He quietly whined to himself, lamenting the life of a prince trapped in the keep of a freaking behemoth. The latest Justice Monsters was coming out in just a few days- and here he was stuck in the fresh hell that was Gladio’s own stamina and endurance training program: first step, running. It was gonna be like a month before he could actually sit down and appreciate the game with this stupid boot camp the way it was now. He just wanted one week to blast his way through it, and all the post game, and he’d submit to this torture willingly- if not without complaint. But, no, Mr Muscles wasn’t gonna let him off the hook until he could run at least twenty miles without a hitch. 

Twenty. Miles. 

He was this close to making a royal decree turning miles into steps. 

He tried his best not to just face plant into the floor again. This was the life he lead- forsaken from his true monster hunter calling for the sake of twenty miles too many. He hated it here.   
“Come on- it isn’t that hard.” Gladiolus ‘torture trainer’ Amicitia scoffed. Blatant lies- all of it. He was lucky he didn’t charge him for blasphemy.   
“Yeah. Right.” He frothed out. It was gonna be a month before his breathing evened out again.   
“I don’t even run this before lunch.” Gladio told him- boosting his own ego, or stepping on Noct’s? He wasn’t sure. He was pretty sure he could do both. The near prince pancake almost snorted to himself at this paticular brag, however, since he was pretty sure Prompto probably ran triple this before lunch... 

oh. 

Prompto. 

He held his composure- forcing not to make any sly smirks, sneaking looks, lest Gladio smell that something was off- he wasn’t quite the bloodhound for Noct’s antics as Ignis was, but he was pretty darn good. Be calm, he reminded himself- think miserable thoughts- keep any and all scheming thoughts out of from his face. He clung to his previous dragged out, whiny tone, ignoring the sudden rush of excitement that filled him at the thought of his new plan. If he managed to do this- if he could pull one over on Gladio... this week might just not be a lost cause after all. 

“Prompto could run longer than you.” He whined- petulant as always, carefully keeping the stress on Gladio and not on Prompto- he didn’t want him suspecting the foul play. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the ability to tell Prompto his plans before throwing him under the bus like that, and the distinct sound of a projectile water raspberry blasted through the silence. The blond staring at him with the horrified look of: ‘Dude?!?!!!’ 

“You wanna run that by me again? Princess?” Gladio challenged, calmly. Too calm. It was deadly. Oh, he did not take too kindly to anyone questioning his abilities- least of all Noct, the very one he was meant to protect. He was a proud shield- dripping with the arrogance that he fit the bill entirely, in every way required of him. Every requirement of his position he had met, exceeded and blown out of the water... or so he would have you believe. 

Noctis and Ignis knew, all too well, the chinks in his armour they had to exploit on the training mats. And Gladio- for all his many muscles, and flawless physical body- was NOT a runner.   
“I said...” Noct reiterated- slowly and deliberately rubbing in every... single... word. “...even Prompto could run longer than you.” Smearing every last syllable right across Gladio’s great, towering ego. Gladio fell for it hook, line and sinker. Meanwhile Prompto was looking at him like he’d just signed both of their death warrants- but he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Gladio barked out a smug laugh, like the cheek of such a statement amused him. That the mere twiggy Prompto could ever compare to he specimen that was him. This was just too easy, Noct thought.   
“Not on your life, Prince Charmless.” He smirked, shaking his head like he thought it was cute. Endearing how much faith Noct has in his best friend- or how clearly lost in his delirium he was to suggest such a thing.   
“How about race, then? See who runs the furthest? Prompto wins, I get to push back this stupid training thing one week.” He proposed, trying not to tip his hat too early. He was so close now. He could all but taste that new Justice Monsters game. 

Gladio seemed to think him more a little absurd for even making the suggestion- and mildly impressed with his guts. He had this look like a puppy had just challenged him to wrestling match: adorable, but completely stupid.   
“Oh yeah- and whats in it for me?” He drawled. Noct swallowed hard. Oh, he really didn’t like to think about this bit. He knew he wouldn’t lose this one, but he still hated to say it- to even tempt the gods with more of his misery. Justice Monsters Five! He reminded himself.   
“You win- I’ll do double the amount of training instead.” It almost physically pained him to squeeze that out. He was seriously praying, to whatever gods didn’t hold a vendetta against him for oversized middle fingers, he wasn’t going to regret this. The predatory glint in Gladio’s eyes was not comforting in the slightest.   
“You’re on, charmless. 6pm, tomorrow evening. Laps rounds the citadel. First to bow out, loses.” The shield decided, confidently setting out the basics, and sauntering off. Seemingly an easy excuse to get Noct off his back about having to attend these damn things having fallen into his lap, as far as he was concerned. 

Well... The gauntlet was thrown. Prompto had better pick that damn thing up, and run with it like a prize, thoroughbred chocobo! 

Prompto scampered over to him, more like a chocobo on ice than a prize runner- flailing like he’d got his feathers all in a flutter.   
“Dude!!! Why would you put me on the spot like that- I’m not going up against Gladio?!??” He panicked, eyes wild and thoroughly flustered. “He looks like he bench presses garulas for a living!” What, exactly, on Eos, Noct just signed him up for still clearly processing in his mind.   
“It’ll be fine.” He reassured him, taking back his new throne on the floor, as Prince Pancake. Gladio didn’t put any effort into his runs- and Prompto had been doing this since he was twelve years old, this was an easy win. “You do like fifty miles a week- remember?” He mumbled.   
“Forty seven...” The blond muttered, correctively. Noct shot him a look that tried to convey the best ‘seriously?’ he could muster with about 40 percent water content in all his body. Prompto wouldn’t look at him to take this seriously.   
“Come onnn. You do this- we have seven whole days of kicking Justice Monster Five’s ass, without any stupid training at all. Ignis cleared my schedule for this stupid thing- we’d have it alllll to ourselves.” 

That got his attention. 

He seemed to chew it over.   
“Alright then.” He agreed, uncertainly. Still unsure of himself, but shooting him his signature grin regardless. “For Justice Monsters Five.” He declared. Noct grinned back.   
“For Justice Monsters Five!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Not too late to duck out.” Gladio warned- casually working into some of the warm ups despite the suggestion to call it off. 

He wasn’t gonna say no to a chance to rub it in Noct’s face- and, yeah, show off a little. He felt a kinda bad for the poor lamb Noct tossed at his feet, but he was not holding back. He was going to absolutely smoke kid- probably wouldn’t last five minutes before he was eating his dust. “Would hate for you Iggy to have to peel you off the pavement.” He grinned- trying to get under the kids skin, yes, but also he genuinely wanted to give him an out if he was gonna run himself into the ground. He’d seen the dogged lengths this kid would go to for Noct- he didn’t doubt he’d run until he had splints if he commanded it- but he’d be sure to call things off if they got serious. 

That was partly why Ignis was here- to drag someone (Prompto) out, and call off the race, before things got too serious. He also seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to sit back for once- still working on his paperwork, as always, but now with fresh air, refreshments and a nice, cosy chair. He was living the high life as far as Ignis’ work usually goes, and seemed to have taken the opportunity, as referee, manager and moderator, to prepare not only adequate food, drinks and supplies for the competitors, but also set up a cosy little spectators area too- complete with ice drinks and parasol. 

Noctis has tried to convince the lot of them to place bets, which Gladio thought was kind of adorable- he had so much his misplaced faith in his runner. If it wasn’t so obvious Noct was clinging to a chance to get out of his training he might’ve been mildly annoyed or offended at the supposed lack of confidence in his own shield. 

Thankfully, Ignis had shot it down- confiding to Gladiolus later that he thought it ‘would’ve been hardly fair.’ Still, looking at Prompto, the kid didn’t seem to be doing too bad so far. 

He could see the anxiousness in his eyes, but his stretching form was actually nothing to sniff at. Gladio was kind of impressed- looks like someone had been paying attention to his warm drills after all. Until, he noticed Prompto throw some in that he definitely didn’t teach him: specialised running postures. 

He almost chuckled to himself- kid probably spent the past few days frantically searching up stretches and techniques to try optimise his non-existent chances. 

Noct was standing right by his side, whispering encouragement into ear- trying to hype him up in his own Noct way, he supposed- Prompto nodding determinedly every few seconds. Gladio dropped the last of his stretches, and smacked his hands together, wandered towards the makeshift starting line laid out across the floor. Time to get this thing over with. 

“Last chance, Princess.” He called out. “Sure you wanna do this? Double training’s gonna be rough.” He warned. Let it never be said he was a shield without integrity. 

Noct grinned, letting his stubborn refusal to grace that statement with an answer speak for him, and whispered one last thing to his friend (that sounded suspiciously like ‘Justice Monsters Five’), sharing a pumped up, jittery fist bump. Alright, Gladio shrugged, Prompto moving to stand by the starting tape alongside him. 

He gave him a chance. 

A few miles in, and he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. He was actually kind of surprised- the kid wasn’t holding up too bad either. There was a bit more spunk in him than he’d previously gave him credit for. 

Ten miles in, and it started to feel just a little harder- still no sign of slacking from Prompto. Not half bad. 

Approaching twenty miles, and he wondered what the kid was even doing in stamina training? He was looking to make the twenty look easy. 

They carried on going, up to...

Thirty?

Forty?! 

When was this kid gonna stop?! He was really starting to feel the exertion now- he’s long since passed his peak performance. He refused to admit it, but he’d only be on the decline from here on out. Still no problem- the kid was gonna bounce out any time. 

Fifty miles in, and he struggling to keep going, but Prompto seemingly refused to just take the hint. 

Why the hell wasn’t he flat on the ground by now? He should’ve left him in the dust miles back? For a moment he was flagging slightly, but then the blond started to pull ahead. Oh hell no- he was not letting this kid get the better of him! He pressed on, fuelled by stubbornness more than energy at this point. Each mile seemed to stretch infinitely longer than the last. 

Fifty five... 

Fifty six... 

His footfall was stumbling by now- sweat pouring from his body, and not even a full bottle of the routinely offered water was enough to quench his thirst, even if he could get it down without loosing vital breathing seconds. 

He just kept watching Prompto... waiting- willing him to drop out. Come on, he thought. Just fall down! Just be done with this thing already!! I’m not gonna lose! Why wouldn’t the damn kid just tap out already?!?! Gladio was a beast running on nothing but fumes, and a pig-headed stubborness that he refused to be beat. If this was just based on tenacity, he likely could’ve won on sheer force of will alone. Even when his muscles started seizing up, and he was felt like he was dragging his limbs through concrete, he still trudged on... 

Fifty six... 

Fifty seven. 

If it was down to will, he would’ve run until the sun went down. His body took the decision away from him. 

His foot fell out from under him, and he went down hard- thighs burning, and calves spasming, as he hauled in oxygen with a desperation he hadn’t had since childhood. He wasn’t getting back up anytime soon. The beast had fallen. 

Gladio huffed and wheezed there on the ground, stunned in the realisation that he’d lost. What the hell had happened...? All he could do was wonder in a daze as he watched Prompto finally run himself to a gentle stop- hands braced on his knees as he attempted to recoup himself.... but how? How the hell?!?! Gladio wondered. How in the name of the Astrals was Prompto still standing, while he was the one left in the dirt?!?! 

He dropped his head- wondering if feigning unconsciousness would get him out of the mess that would surely follow. 

A growing cheer that was most definitely not aimed at him, and the double trotting of two approaching footfalls, making him want to disappear into the hall of shame. His head spun, and he considered it a mild mercy that he couldn’t even hear Noct’s taunts, despite his very crude and obvious gestures giving him a very accurate idea of the extent of his gloating. The prince soon ignored him, in favour of his still barely recovering best friend- nearly knocking the high school kid down to the floor with the intensity of his celebration, as he swung round him like a crazed ape. 

An unwanted consolatory pat on his back reminded him of the other witness to his failure. It was just Noct that had what was there- Ignis had seen too... freaking IGNIS?! Had he known this was going to happen?! 

He tried not point imaginary fingers at the guy while he was helping him haul up into a seated position- a heaven sent bag of health saving goodies on his shoulder- but he’d eat his foot if Ignis somehow didn’t know everything. Those glasses definitely came with foresight, he swore to it, there was no way Ignis hadn’t seem this outcome coming miles ago. 

The advisor kept quiet for now though, and didn’t try to insult his already wounded pride by trying to offer him mollifying muscle relief straight away, so that was a small, minor plus. Noct had no such inhibitions in staying quiet, being so loud as to let the whole citadel know what had just transpired.   
“... Sorry, Iggy- shame you’re gonna have to peel Gladio’s sorry behemoth ass off the floor.” He boasted, with the biggest, most insufferable look of arrogant pride, the likes of Gladio never hoped to see on his face ever again. The little-. Turning his own prideful words back against him. Apparently he was not above such ridicule. 

He was oozing with smug glee- and way too happy to see Gladio sprawled down in the dirt, unable to even fully hold himself up. If he wasn’t half drowned in his own sweat, and showering in the remnants of his own shame, the glare Gladio tried to return would’ve meant something. As it was, Noctis just laughed in the face of it. 

“We’re going to go hang out in the winners lounge, and collect our prize.” He shouted over his shoulder, making sure to saturate every word with vanity- half dragging, half supporting, Prompto along with him. A tired, but still somehow humble, smile on the runner’s face. He looked somehow shy of the accomplishment- and for a moment, Gladio just sat there in awe. That kid literally just outran him, and then smiled and waved him off like it was an average sunday run. 

What in the six-...? Holy hell- that kid had steel in him!! 

The broken shield ending up gaping in sheer disbelief at the oblivious blond, as he recovered his breath- Prompto casually stretching out a few recovery postures to keep from hurting to bad despite Noctis’ clear impatience to leave. He hadn’t imagined it- the kid knew his stuff. He’d just been too up in himself to see it... 

Damn... 

...and he bet the kid was still trying to play it off as if it were nothing special. 

Maybe someday he might be able to a defeat from Prompto, the kid was obviously far more gracious about victory than he could ever hope to be in defeat. But, for this moment, he still had a considerable chip on his shoulder- so he turned his head to address it. Ignis was no chip but he was in right position for it. 

“No bets, huh?” He noted, accusatorily to Ignis, because he wasn’t going to forget about that.   
“I don’t recall lying.” He noted, reaching out a well-braced hand for his as he attempted to pull up the fallen goliath. “I said it was hardly fair.” He reminded him. Gladio was not happy for the reminder. ‘Not fair’?! Ignis had expected him it to be not even close? Just how far had the kid been willing, or able, to run if Gladio hadn’t been physically unable to take another step? Sixty miles? Seventy? A hundred? He wondered if the kid wasn’t ready for a full marathon with a little extra training. Well, there went any chance the kid had of him ever taking it easy on him again. He was going to regret this come the next training session- and no, he wasn’t petty at all. 

“Had we truly placed bets, you might’ve thought twice.” The advisor pointed out, innocently- a silent ‘and I wouldn’t wanted to have missed that’ gliding smoothly beneath his words. Ignis had definitely aquired up the diplomat’s talent of speaking a thousand words within perfectly polite sentences- picking and choosing the ones he wanted you to hear. 

Gladio looked away, fighting the abashed flush as he got the message. Okay, perhaps his ego needed this one. There was nothing wrong with a reminder to always take even the smallest opponents seriously. 

After all- you never know when you might run into a Prompto Argentum, and get a very humbling reminder never to count someone out for appearances alone. 

Kid had something impressive in him, that was for sure. He’d surprised him that day.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a always going to be a short little do dat but it ended up even shorter than I originally thought- motivation for this one just did not stick around but it was oh so fun to write drama queen Noct XD
> 
> I do have ideas for potential Ignis/Noctis vs Prompto continuations but whether the inspiration decides to strike me for that or not. Hope you enjoyed this one regardless^^


End file.
